A Tale of Two Gothams
by Alexander Dregon
Summary: Elliot Stabler is a good cop who thinks the world should be in black and white and law enforcement should carry a badge. On a cool September evening, a visit from the Dark Knight shows him that neither of those are absolutes. Please help out by reviewing this story. I like to know what you think. good or bad.


A Tale of two Gothams

Elliot Stabler sat at his desk trying desperately not to scream as he gritted his teeth and tried to finish the last of his fives. He was about half an hour from done but he was already two hours past his shift and decided he needed some coffee for the final assault. Captain Cragen was looking at him when he rose and stretched. Elliot was a good man, like all of his people. Sometimes they pushed their limits like all good cop, but Elliot was probably his worst offender.

The last case had been a real ball buster. And a heart breaker. Some moke had broken into a brownstone on the lower east side and killed the wife and husband. The only survivor had been a child in the closet. The only reason they got the case was before the wife died the bastard had raped her while the kid watched.

Cragen shook his head as he thought about the fact that the woman had probably died during the sex and this sicko either didn't notice or didn't care. He felt his stomach churn as he realized what that little boy had to look forward to.

Right now though, his mind was on Elliot as he watched the man head for the coffee machine. He decided it was as good a time as any to try and get him to go home. There would be enough times that he would need them on overtime. This wasn't one of them. So he got to tell him to go home and see if he could still recognize his kids.

On his way to join him a paper on Munch's desk caught his eye. A story from Gotham City about the masked vigilante who had made the night life in that city a little less appealing to the criminal element. Called himself the Batman. This one was complete with a relatively good sketch done by somebody who had seen him close up. Of course it was easy to see that whoever drew this was at the very least infatuated with this guy. The physique looked like a cross between half a dozen of the old Steve Reeves type movies.

He picked up the paper. "Seen this?" Elliot took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, John sure knows where to find 'em doesn't he?"

He looked at the drawing critically. "This guy looks like he needs some time on a couch somewhere. What's up with the ears?"

Cragen looked at Stabler in all seriousness and said, "According to reports I've seen, crime has dropped off significantly since he started doing whatever it is he's doing. Even the police commissioner, has had to admit that. And the public loves him."

"Sure why not? No rules, no paper work. What happens when he kills somebody?" Elliot didn't seem to get into the spirit of the moment. Or the Batman.

Cragen wasn't flustered. "Story I heard was he doesn't use a gun. He seems to have an aversion to them."

"Yeah well, all that means is that sooner or later somebody is gonna have to pick up the pieces somebody leaves behind and the cops'll get blamed for his death for not stopping him. They ought to put a leash on him before it's too late."

Cragen nodded non-commitally. He hadn't meant to start this, it was just a conversation starter. "Elliot go home. The fives are almost done and for once we seem to be ahead of the game. So why don't you head home and get some rest?"

Stabler shook his head. "I'm almost done and the wife and kids are at my wife's sister's place. So I might as well finish before I go."

"Suit yourself but don't say I didn't try." Elliot smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

An hour later, Stabler was still at still at his desk. The last report having taken longer than he thought and having to stop and make some coffee. He was getting tired enough to have wished he'd taken Cragen up on his offer.

The final report had been on another prime example of humanity in the worst light. A long time hustler and former rapist had made a mistake and gotten his head handed to him when he went after the wrong mark in a blackmail scheme. It wasn't unusual but this guy had gone to ground and left no trail.

Elliot was sudden aware of a feeling that he was not alone. He looked around the room expectantly. It was almost nine o'clock. The rest of the station was still full of policemen but this "felt" different. It hadn't been a sound or a smell that alerted him. It was more like a presence that was simply too strong to ignore. He'd met men that had that kind of aura in the marines. They radiated power and authority so forcefully they called attention to themselves even before you knew they were there. He knew there was no logical reason for it, but the feeling was unshakable.

He stood up and looked around. The room wasn't dark but it was heavily shadowed thanks to the directives to conserve energy. For a moment Stabler felt foolish as he tried to probe the darkness for a sign. Nothing. Yet the feeling if anything grew stronger.

Stabler put his hand on his sidearm. Cragen was still in his office oblivious. Stabler went to the rear of the room. He was still not sure why but he felt like he wasn't alone.

He drew his weapon as he checked rooms. This was becoming ridiculous. No one was stupid enough to break into a police station!

He stepped into a storage room. It was the largest one on the floor. Stabler slid in along the wall. Whatever the feeling was, it was stronger here. He turned on the light and moved to see around the shelves in the middle of the room. As he did, the lights went out.

Whatever was going on Stabler had no idea of what to do next. So he moved up next to the wall, still silent, not wanting to give away his position.

Suddenly a hand shot out of the darkness, gripping his gun hand, twisting it almost gently and removing the gun from it in less than a second.

Elliot Stabler was not a small man. And an ex-marine. To say nothing of being a good cop. He didn't scare easily. And he had faced opponents in every arena that had been bigger, stronger and more vicious. He remembered vividly an episode where he'd been thrown through a plate glass window by a giant meth-head. Got about twenty stitches from that.

But that had been a drug induced rage that powered that. Simple explosive brute force. Like a bomb going off. This was nothing like that. The grip that latched onto his arm was like steel. And there was no fury in it. No rage. Just a finely tuned control that spoke of a trained combatant. Or an assassin.

Elliot swung wildly, trying to make contact with his attacker. If nothing else it gave him someplace to target. But the ghost moved back out of range as he lifted his hand palm forward, catching him by the neck in what could only be described as a nerve pinch. Elliot felt the world go away.

A few minutes later, Elliot snapped his head back to get away from the ammonium nitrate being waved under his nose. He was immediately assailed by an evening breeze that promised a cold night for September. He realized he was sitting in a chair on the roof. He tried to move and found he wasn't bound. What the hell was going on? He leaped to his feet looking around.

Then his eyes focused on the figure he could barely make out. It was easy to see there was something going on but he was at a loss to explain.

Then the figure spoke.

"Good evening detective. You have to excuse the rough treatment but I assure you, you were in no danger. You might have heard of me. I'm from Gotham City. They call me Batman."

2

"Yeah, I have heard of you. And from what I heard you either some kind of nut or… some other kind of nut! Kidnapping a police officer gets you a trip to Ryker's in this city! "

"Yes, I am well aware of the statutes. But the moment called for drastic action. I did some research on this area and your name came up several times as being dedicated and dogged in your pursuits. All attributes I think you need for what I am about to tell you."

"All you need to tell me is why I shouldn't run your ass in and snatch that mask off of your head…"

The man moved so quickly Elliot nearly missed it as he found the man inches from his face. It was easy to see how he could earn a reputation so quickly. He was massive. Whatever else this costume looked like, it displayed his muscles like a billboard. Even the mask he found so ridiculous looked frightening close up. Elliot stepped back to put some distance between them but the man maintained the distance by stepping forward.

"I don't have time to indulge your ego!" The voice, deep and gravelly, seemed little changed, yet an almost malice came through despite the fact that the volume hadn't changed at all. The costumed figure went on.

"Earlier today you finished a case where the parents of a child were killed, the mother raped and the boy left traumatized in a closet, correct?"

Elliot wanted to ask how he knew all of this but decided it might be best if he didn't know. The voice went on.

"The standard belief was that it was a random occurrence. My investigation says the woman was the target."

"Target of what?"

The big man seemed to turn away for the moment. "The man that was killed, according to my sources wasn't the father of that kid. The woman used to be involved with Carson Briscoe!"

At the mention of the name Elliot's mood changed. Briscoe was one of the FBI's ten most wanted. He was linked to a hundred different operations that they wanted stopped.

Batman detected the change. He went on quickly. "Suffice it to say that she wanted the boy kept away from his father. To that end she kept his age a secret so Briscoe didn't connect his birth with their time together. She even went so far as to have the boy's face altered surgically."

Elliot was amazed. "Why would any parent do that to their kid?"

The wind picked up for a moment, sending the cape swirling around him ominously. "How much do you know about Briscoe? He's as vicious as a wolverine. With less morals. What's his is his and anyone who tries to stop him pays the price!"

Now Elliot was not only interested, he was becoming incensed. He remembered the scene as they had found it. And the boy staring blankly into space. If he was out to get the mother and father out of the way that was one thing but to make a kid watch his parents die like that took a special kind of sadist. And deserved a special place in hell.

But he had one major question.

"How do you know all of this? If the woman was so cautious and Briscoe hadn't found out, how do you know all of this?"

The Batman looked at him critically. He had been right about the man. He was asking all the right questions. And in the proper order.

"You are aware of my counterpart from Metropolis?"

Elliot's eyes widened a little. Everyone had heard of the man the female reporter had dubbed Superman a few years back. But he had been gone for a while and then returned. Had he brought this guy with him?

"Yeah, I've heard of him!" was his reply finally.

"He was running an investigation of his own into an associate of Luthorcorp that led him to this Briscoe and his organization. Only given his unique abilities and his high morality, he was loathe to use the information he had found through his own 'unusual' talents. The only reason I know is because our cases dovetailed and he gave me a few details to help my investigation. But he still wanted nothing to do with using the things he'd learned directly."

Suddenly, the vigilante looked at Stabler with eyes that betrayed a tortured soul. And the courage to overcome it. "I understand him though. He's a hero. A great man. And his word is beyond reproach. It has to be. If people lose the ability to trust him, and his powers, he goes from being a hero to a terror in one easy step. And despite the fact that they don't know of anything that can do much more than muss his hair, he'd be as good as dead if he couldn't do what he does."

Then again another change. This one back to the persona he used to cow his enemies and keep reporters at bay. "He is about as far opposite as he can be from me. He likes the lime light. He uses it to inspire. I like the shadows. I use them to create terror in the minds of the criminals I chase." He cut his eyes back to Stabler, boring deep with a steely gaze. "And I use things he would refuse."

With that he produced a flash-drive from his belt and tossed it to Stabler. "There's a detailed outline of Briscoe's operations and his ties that led to the death of Andre and Sara Paul. It has everything you need to hunt him down. All you have to do is keep me, and him out of it!"

"If I do that, his lawyer's will tear me apart! How the hell am I gonna justify finding all of this when the feds haven't been able to get close to this guy?"

For the first time the big man smiled. And Stabler immediately wished he hadn't. It was like watching a wolf speculating on the taste of his next meal.

"That's the beauty of this. And the reason I chose you. You busted several doctors with ties to the mob of one sort or another. One of them is the doctor Sara used to have her son's face altered. Do not expect me to tell you which one. You also have the chops to handle the investigation. But I have to warn you. It won't be easy! It could lead to your own life being put in danger! And your family's. On the plus side, however, you get a pair of guardian angels. One light, one dark!"

The implications of his last statement were not lost on Stabler. He looked at the drive in his hand. He already knew there would be no sign of where it came from or how. And anyway, he couldn't show it to anyone. He'd have to go through the investigation on his own using it for a guide. He put it in his pocket. With that single act he knew he was a part of this now. And so did the Batman. His last question was, "How will I contact…" he looked up to find he was alone, "you?"

In the dark a voice growled, "You won't. I'll know."

Stabler looked around trying to locate the source but it was too late. All that remained was the same cold breeze coming in off the bay. He went to the door and looked back at the roof. Less than an hour ago he felt like this guy in the weird suit was a menace to society and was swearing that he would lock him up if he got the chance. Now he had not only met him but had in effect joined his team. Him and an alien that many thought was the greatest hope mankind had ever seen. He was just an ex-marine cop with a penchant for getting things done. He pulled out the drive and stared at it. Things were going to get interesting fast. He walked, shivering now into the building and closed the door.

And on a roof top across the street, two figures watched as the door closed behind him. One through a pair of high powered binoculars. The other with just his eyes.

After he had been gone a few seconds, the later turned and said, "What do you think, is he going to run down and tell his boss what just happened?"

Batman leaned back against the wall. "Not if he's what we think he is. If he does, we lose nothing. The only evidence he has of what we did was that flash drive. And if you think he's about to make it public…well, that's what that heat vision of yours is for."

The Man of Steel shook his head. "I still don't like this. And sometimes I'm none too sure about you."

"As long as we both hate Briscoe, I can live with that!"

Both men left then, by their own individual means. The net was cast. Now it was time to see what they could catch.

3

In a penthouse overlooking the harbor, Carson Briscoe sat in a plush chair and stared at the report he had had done on the boy. His suspicions had been correct. Little Larry was definitely his flesh and blood. That meant that whore of a mother of his had lied. Her fate had been sealed as soon as she left him but he had wanted to wait until he was sure. Once he'd stolen a sample of he boy's hair and had the proper tests run, he had no further reason to wait.

Now he had to be cool. If there was any thought that he had had anything to do with the death of his mother and her boyfriend, they wouldn't need to convict him to fight his claim to the boy. His grandparents would be adamant about their claims, especially if they thought he had anything to do with it. They had always hated him. But when Ann had left him, she hadn't even told them. Just headed off to parts unknown and came back three years later with a kid.

He'd never even considered the kid was his until he'd seen a picture of him with his mother. At first he had considered letting the bitch go. She hadn't been a bad sort. She had just gotten to the point where she thought she could change him. After a while her naiveté had become amusing when he thought about it.

But that picture had changed that. The eyes were the thing. They were dark brown, almost almond shaped, like his mother's had been. And the small cleft in his chin had been a dead giveaway even with Ann's effort to have it removed.

That act alone had drawn his attention. And convinced him to investigate further. The rest as they say was history, irrevocable and final.

Now this Metropolis freak had been spotted by one of his guys just hovering around one of his buildings. It was insane to think of what this guy could do. But Luthor said that even if he did know anything, he couldn't use it because there was no proof. He wasn't a recorder. At least he didn't have a playback mode to his knowledge.

"Yeah but if freak knows what the hell is in my organization…"

"He can't use anything he finds. Or to be more precise he _won't_ use anything he finds using his powers. I used to spend a fortune lining my buildings with lead before I realized that along with his overdeveloped physique came an overdeveloped sense of morality. He may be able to bend steel, he won't bend a rule."

Briscoe had to accept that, mainly because the five guys he'd had try to take him out were resting comfortably in prison. And it was costing him a pretty penny to insure his name stayed out of it. Thankfully the judges had considered them more crazy than dangerous, and had sentenced them accordingly.

Luthor hadn't bothered to explain his vulnerabilities to Kryptonite. After all he reasoned, if anyone was going to kill the Metropolis Marvel, it was going to be him.

But even without it Briscoe had felt bolstered by the knowledge that this overgrown Boy Scout was hamstrung by his own morals. It appealed to his sense of order.

But he knew nothing of the Dark Knight. Or his methods. And that would be telling.

4

The next day, when Stable came in to work, he had come up with a plan. He hadn't slept more than an hour before he'd been up and on the computer examining the data on the drive. By dawn he had a plan of attack. He just had one problem. He had no idea if Olivia would be allowed in on this, or if she wanted to. Dangerous didn't even cover this, both physically and professionally. If the word got out they were working with this Batman, One Police Plaza would have a fit. And both of their careers would be over. Probably Cragen's as well.

On the other hand he'd been promised the best help he could think of and even given its dubious lineage, the source of this data was impeccable. The only thing was that he couldn't use the data directly only the knowledge it provided. But with it he could stop Briscoe. And put that bastard away for good.

Olivia came in and said hi as she sat down. She was a damn good cop and a better friend. Sometimes better than he deserved. And she had done her best to overlook his flaws and help him through some bad times.

He looked around at the rest of the squad. Fin, Cragen, even Munch had his moments of brilliance, but this Batman had come to him. And suddenly he felt honored and awed by the choice.

But all that aside, he realized that he needed Liv to make this work. And probably the others as well. And the first thing was to get them working on it. So he called an impromptu meeting, including Cragen. When asked he simply said, "I had a visitor last night."

Cragen's eyebrows shot up. He had been here until Stabler had gone and seen no one. But when Stabler went on the stares came from more than just him.

"I got knocked out…no that's wrong. I got laid out so fast I'm not sure how but when I came to, I was face to face with that guy you were reading about, John. The one from Gotham City."

Both Munch and Cragen came out of their seats at once, for very different reasons. Cragen beat Munch to the punch by the slimmest of margins.

"You had a meeting with a vigilante here? In the station?"

"Not exactly. And it wasn't so much a meeting as an assignment. He took me to the roof and gave me this."

With that he produced the flash drive and showed it to all assembled. While Cragen took it and examined it, Munch finally got his chance to ask, "You got to meet this guy? What's he like?"

Elliot thought for a moment. There were so many things about him that had stuck out but there was one word that seemed to fit both him and their meeting best. And for those that knew him, it would explain the depth of the way the man had affected him.

He said simply, "Frightening. He looked like every bad dream you ever had come to collect on what you owed them for letting you go the first time. And trust me this is not the guy you want to be on the bad side of. Not to mention one of his friends."

Olivia finally spoke up, "What friend would that be?"

"The one from Metropolis!"

At the mention of Superman, mouths dropped open. There had been no mention of the two of them being connected. Most considered them more or less as he himself had said polar opposites. But then as Olivia thought about it, a lot of folks said the same about her and Elliot.

Cragen was more pragmatic. "Look whether or not we think this guy is on our side, One PP isn't gonna be happy about us consorting with what most would consider a wanted criminal."

"One PP is the least of our problems!" Fin said bluntly. "The public ain't got their mind made up on this guy either. We show up on his side and it looks like an endorsement. Next thing you know we got Rat-man, Fat-man and a host of other wanna be heroes. Next thing we all end up looking for a job at Mickey D's."

Munch took up the cause on that. "I don't think that's gonna be the problem. If this guy does all right the government'll probably put him on the payroll. If he isn't already!"

Fin rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Here we go! Next he'll be an escapee from area 51!"

As Munch glared at him amid snickers and smiles, Cragen brought the group back to reality. "So what did this guy want? What's on the drive?"

Elliot looked at the floor then back at the group. "Have you ever heard of Carson Briscoe?"

For the next half an hour Stabler told them the story he had been told. When he finished no one said a word. Then Cragen asked him, "How the hell do we stop this clown if we can't use this data? And if he's hooked up with Luthorcorp that means he has enough lawyers to populate a third world country."

Munch leaped on that, nearly salivating at the thought. "He may be doing business with Luthorcorp but I don't see them letting him into the inner circle. Luthor's had his run-ins with the guy in the blue suit too many times to give him that big a reason to tear his organization apart."

Everyone looked at Munch again. He might be a conspiracy buff, but that doesn't mean he wasn't right.

But Cragen, still the commander of this merry little group, asked the next question. "Elliot, you got a plan?"

Elliot tried his best to emulate the smile he had gotten the night before from his host. He was surprised when he saw he reaction it got. Looks like he was better at it than he had thought.

"We know what he does, and how he gets away with it. All we have to do now is use this to screw it up."

Cragen felt his stomach churn. It looked like it was gonna be a long day.

5

Over the next several days, One Police Plaza had cause to praise many of its charges. All thanks to Elliot's information which they dispensed through extravagant ruses and informants, even going so far as to make anonymous calls that led to busts that put a damper on Briscoe's operations. He himself was nearly caught in one of the raids on one of his warehouses.

Fin had even managed to let a few of his buddies in Narcotics in on some of his more profitable operations in their area of expertise. The result was that his profits were sinking faster than the Titanic.

He had several of his lieutenants on the carpet trying to explain why their entire operation seemed to be so transparent. Fearing for their lives they all found scapegoats to blame the leaks on. Their fate would be left in the hands of those that had lied about them, assuming that they themselves survived.

Briscoe was neither impressed nor amused by their antics. He knew the rats would turn on each other. That was to be expected. But even amid the normal crap that they dished out every day, he found a fear that was unusual. There were too many leaks to be simply one or two snitches in the fold. This was a systematic failure of all of his security measures. And he was sure he knew where it was originating.

But his best attempts at contacting Luthor came to nothing. Despite his feeling that Luthor needed him and his organization, it was becoming painfully apparent that Luthor didn't share his opinion. A mistake on his part.

And he suddenly thought, probably not the first mistake that bald headed son of a bitch made either. He assumed Superman wouldn't steal the information and use it. Apparently he'd been right but it seemed he'd been mistaken about one thing. He had given the data to somebody in law enforcement, who was spreading around the clues that led to his operations. And how to cripple them.

And as a final insult, this freak from Gotham City had been sighted nosing around in the area. That alone was suspicious simply because as far as he'd heard, if this guy didn't wanna be seen, he wasn't. But there had been several reports of him being in the area. Just watching. Also out of character for the guy from what he'd heard.

The grapevine said that this Batman was part of some kind of new law enforcement agency that included a lot of the ones he heard about in passing. Others like this Superman. Freaks! The kind that the government was supposed to protect people from! Yet they were turning a blind eye while these things ruined his business.

But he had no way to prove it was either of the bastards and even if he did, he wouldn't get any support from the public. And as his lawyer told him, without proof, he would sound like a deranged man spouting paranoid delusions. Talk about a role reversal! The first time in his life he wanted the cops and there was nothing they could do.

The more he thought about it, the worse it felt.

But he wasn't worried. He had millions stashed in off shore accounts and safety deposit boxes. He could ride out the storm and start over without a problem. The only thing he really wanted was his son. The lawyers were still fighting about that. The grandparents were not really opposed to the idea of giving him the boy, but they needed a little more time to adjust to the idea.

But with half the police in the city targeting his businesses, and these new "heroes"

sitting on the sidelines and watching, waiting for the chance to swoop in and make a name for themselves on his dime, he suddenly realized that he had no reason to fight anymore. They had his organization by the short hairs. He was tempted to try to implicate Luthor but it was a fleeting thought. Luthor's organization was global. Going up against him meant there was nowhere in the world he could hide. And Luthor didn't play by any rules but his own.

No, it was best to slip out quietly. But to do that, he'd have to get out completely. Which meant he had some loose ends to tie up before he left.

6

Elliot checked the daily reports to watch the progress being made against Briscoe's people. And to guide them every time they seemed to be going astray. He had to be careful now though. Too many people had already begun to ask questions about the source of their new "leads," and some of them wanted to know badly.

Cragen had come to the conclusion that there were some that were more interested for more personal reasons. Like the loss of a second income. Or a fear that there could be exposure of some of the darker secrets Briscoe had learned over the years.

Olivia had found several other leads, thanks to her friends at computer fraud. Most of which were just rehashing of things they already knew. But then there was one that drew her attention quickly.

She got back to the precinct just after dark. As she walked up the stairs, she heard a sound behind her. Muffled and indistinct, she just assumed it to be a rat scurrying out of her path. But given the description that Elliot had given of his first meeting with their mysterious benefactor, she found herself checking the corners for shapes.

In the squad room she was relieved to see Elliot at his desk, Fin was on the other side talking to someone on the phone with great interest. Elliot motioned her over.

"What's up?" she asked nodding toward Tutuola. Elliot moved her over to the side to keep his voice off the phone.

"Fin's got friends that claim they saw the Batman at one of Briscoe's warehouses they busted last night. Says he was just there, like he wanted to be seen."

Suddenly a voice from the door made both of them jump. "And why would Gotham City's pet vigilante be in our fair city? And why are you to so interested in any case?"

Both Liv and Elliot looker at Alexandria Cabot. Their ADA was not amused by the situation. Fin simply shrugged. "A friend of mine said he saw him. Up close! Why he was there I can't imagine, but the fact that he was probably means there was more to that warehouse than they knew."

Alexandria nodded, neither committed nor convinced. But the adversarial approach wasn't called for here. Not yet anyway.

"Jack McCoy has been on the warpath ever since the whole force decided it was open season on Carson Briscoe. We have a hundred different cases based on a bunch of anonymous tips that keep coming in though channels we can't seem to track. And the grapevine says a lot of those untraceable tips had the look of something a cop would do. And that same grapevine says that a lot of those tips started from some of your people. Now I find you chatting about this 'Batman' right after he shows up at a bust at the middle of the night. And given what I've heard about him, that's a rarity. Enough to make me think it was arranged. Care to comment?"

Stabler managed to actually look hurt. "Now what could we know about this guy? He's Gotham's nut job. Maybe he's got a tailor in town and came in to get a cape sewed."

Alexandria stared at both of them. Then looked over at Fin. A quick glance caught Cragen avoiding looking at her. He knew what was going on as well. She thought for the rest of the little group that worked here, and finally coming to the conclusion that if there was any doubt in her mind before, it was gone now. They were in on it. What she didn't know was why.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but the scuttlebutt puts you all in the middle. Internal affairs would be here already but One PP is keeping them off of you until this thing plays out. They want Briscoe as bad as you and this guy apparently do. But rest assured that as soon as he goes down, somebody is going to put this together and come after you guys. If you had the goods on this clown what the hell is it with all the cloak and dagger stuff? And don't insult me by saying the whole thing is coincidence because even if I was stupid enough to believe it, downtown isn't. So if you want to get through this with your careers intact…you better start figuring out what you plan to say when…oh!"

Suddenly Alexandria's eyes focused on the back of the room. Every ones followed to see the man that had for all intents and purposes simply appeared at the rear of the room. Everyone knew who he was, but they were all just as stunned to finally meet him.

"Maybe I can explain."

As he spoke the rest of the room came in to stare at him. He was used to that. The bright colors of his costume were almost magnetic in that regard. He sometimes wondered if it was necessary. But he didn't have time to worry about it now.

"I think you all know me. And I am afraid it's my fault. I can't really explain too much because it puts me in a bad position. Like Batman explained, I can't be seen as using my abilities in such a manner, even to stop something as foul as Briscoe. And he doesn't have the resources to go after an organization that big fast enough to do more than annoy it. To say nothing of not being able to protect Ann Doyle's little boy."

"Then it might be time for you to get involved!"

Now heads swiveled as everyone's attention focused on the newest arrival, Detective Sgt. John Munch. And despite his obvious fascination with the man in the red cape and boots standing before him, his manner told of a grim reality that overshadowed everything else at the moment.

Superman turned to him, seeing the anguish in his face. "Munch, isn't it? Good to meet you. Now what do you mean, I need to get involved?"

Munch felt a twinge of both pride and curiosity at the fact that this amazing man knew his name, but he was a cop first, and right now his duty called for him to protect the innocent.

"About an hour ago, there was a report of a break in at Silas Doyle's house. The grandparents are on their way to the hospital. Apparently the old guy put up a fight. Had a heart episode of some kind and collapsed. "

Alarm registered on Superman's face as he remembered the fate of his foster father years ago and the accompanying helplessness he'd felt. It was not a pleasant memory. "Is he all right?"

"He'll live but it was touch and go for a while! The wife is with him, but the kid is missing! Neighbor says he saw a couple of guys in what looked like a black SUV. Apparently Briscoe is on the move!"

"Well, if he is he made a big mistake. This time I don't have to break any rules to put him away."

But as he turned to head for a window, a voice that was designed to inspire fear said from the shadows, "You're a little late this time. Or did you think I was hanging around because I liked the scenery?

Everyone turned to see the shadowy figure step out of the shadows carrying a wide-eyed boy in his arms. "Get him to the hospital and his grand parents.'

Everyone was amazed but Cragen beat everyone to the magic question, even though all he managed to get out was, "How…"

Handing the boy to Olivia, who like Elliot had been, was stunned by the presence of the darker angel. She wasn't subject to girlish infatuations, but these two could make her debate that position. But now she too found herself drawn in as the big man began talking.

"I knew he wouldn't stand and fight once the deck stacked against him. He had too many overseas friends. Last night when I was at his warehouse, I thought that would be the last chance we might get at him. But when he didn't show I figured it was too late. What I didn't count on was him having enough fatherly instinct to want his kid even under those conditions. By the time I realized his target, he was on his way to a private airport. I caught him there and gave him a choice. He gives me the kid, I don't interfere with him leaving."

Now Superman's jaw dropped open. "YOU LET HIM GO? After all of this, you just let him fly off?"

With an almost sadistic grin he added, "And he had nearly a hundred million in bearer bonds and diamonds. His favorite form of currency."

Alexandria was almost beside herself. Even though they had broken the back of his organization, the idea of him just being let go like that riled her. Enough that she spoke up.

"So you just let him go start over some where else? Any reason why I shouldn't bust you for aiding and abetting?"

The smile, such as it was, didn't waver as he said, "Because the statutes wouldn't have stopped him either. His lawyers could have gotten everything reduced to misdemeanors. And as for his organization, you know full well he was insulated by at least a dozen subordinates. And they got paid well enough to stay quiet. You had no chance of making anything more stick."

"So you let him go off to some country with no extradition and live the rest of his life in luxury or start over." Munch let the disappointment and anger slip into his voice.

But Cragen looked at the man and realized there was more to this than met the eye.

"Hold on a second John." For the first time he spoke directly to Batman. "If our statutes won't stop this guy and he's heading for parts unknown, how does that work out to be justice?"

Turning to slide into the shadows once again, he simply said, "Watch the news tonight. Things should be clear after that."

Superman stepped over. He was clearly upset. Something that did not bode well for anyone. Particularly for the object of his ire.

But before any of them could react the Batman stepped into the shadows and disappeared. Then he turned to excuse himself, saying, "Apparently, he has a plan in effect, although I have no idea what it might be. My advice would be for you to watch the news." Then with a huge grin he said emphatically, "I know I will."

But Alexandria Cabot wasn't finished. "So that's it? You two breeze into town and set us up to do your dirty work and then leave?"

"You have a criminal enterprise in shambles, a kingpin on his way to jail and…"

Stabler looked over at Fin who interrupted asking, "Hold up! How you know he's on his way to jail?"

Without missing a beat, the Man of Steel answered, "Because he didn't tell me where he was going. That means he already knows what's waiting for this guy on the other end. And with his inflated sense of vengeance, it's probably a fitting one."

With that he stepped to the window and waved saying, "I am sorry for any trouble we may have caused. For my part there will be no repeat of this. But if you find yourself in need of my assistance, leave a message at the Daily Planet. I owe you all one. So please, don't hesitate!"

With that he leaped into the air, powering away and out of sight in just a few seconds, leaving the whole group standing, staring and wondering what waited for them on the news.

Suddenly the boy tugged at Olivia's arm. "Big scary man was nice!"

As she looked around at the others, she realized they all had the same thought. The boy had a child's insight into the darkness the Batman coated himself in. Despite his fearsome visage, the boy hadn't been afraid of him. And then they realized one by one that they had all come to that same conclusion. Whatever he was, whatever they were, they were on their side. And they all decided they would sleep easier because of it.

7

High above the streets of New York, Batman reveled in the rush of wind in his face. It was one of the few perks of his career choice. The rush of it made him feel alive. But it never overshadowed the reason he did what he did.

He landed on a roof a dozen blocks from the police station and waited. He knew his night on the town wasn't done.

Almost on cue a sound reached his ears. Like a train running through the sky behind him. He smiled. He could be standing beside him before the sound ever reached his ears but he chose to give him that warning. Probably to try and gauge his reaction. He shook his head. All this time and he still didn't know it wouldn't work. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

He turned to find himself facing the Man of Steel, complete with a look that wasn't angry but if he had to put a name on it, he would have had to say at least, and there was not another man he would use that word on, peeved.

Floating in the air between the buildings, he was concentrating on his face through the mask with that damn X-ray vision of his. He did his best to display nothing but he knew he could read his heart rate body, its temperature or any of a hundred involuntary bodily reactions. But he refused to give him anything voluntarily.

For several seconds the two men simply stared at each other, as if the first one to speak would lose some intangible advantage. Finally, Superman, arms folded and brow furrowed, said, "Well? Are you going to explain to me or do I have to watch the news too?"

"Anywhere in particular you'd like to me start?'

"For openers, where is this guy going?"

"My calculations put him stopping at an air strip just outside of Winnipeg. He'd be out of fuel by then, and the gauges would switch back to their real readings to let him know."

"What are you talking about, 'let him know?'"

As he landed on the roof, he walked over to Batman, smiling in that wolfish grin of his as he said, "Did you really think all I was doing was watching last night?"

Now curiosity got the better of the Metropolis Marvel as he asked, "What exactly _were_ you doing?"

In a rare moment, Batman seemed to deflate. "Look, from the inception of this I knew it wasn't going to be easy. Especially if we had to keep what you did out of the public eye. But the real problem was that Briscoe has the reputation of being outside of the law. One of the tricks he uses to maintain that is even the guys who get caught when they work for him get enough money to make it worth their while to be quiet. He even creates accounts for them so they can get their money without it being connected to him. A real prince!"

"But it does give him one weakness; he has to keep a steady influx of cash to keep those guys quiet. If he leaves, no more contributions to the ones that feel they earned it. And they might just decide that they can get a better deal from the DA than what their lives would turn into without their compensation."

"So how does that fit in?"

"Prison has its own news service. A lot of his guys knew he was under attack and some figured it might be a good time to hedge their bets. One of them told a 'friend' of mine about his failsafe; a plane at Trator's field outside of the city. Last night I came up with a plan that did all he needed done to him!"

Intrigued now Superman said simply, "And that was?"

"He needed to lose everything. Not just his business or his freedom, but everything he held dear. And the way to do it occurred to me last night."

"And that was?" This was becoming tedious.

"He had a plane ready for him to leave at any given time. And over the last few days, he'd managed to convert a hundred million like I said into bearer bonds and diamonds. With that he could set himself up anywhere in a hundred countries. So I had to stop him before he got out."

Taking a breath, he tried to find the best way to tell his friend what he had done. In the end, as usual, it was best to just come out and say it.

"I had a devil of a time but I managed to get a copy of his plane through a shell corporation. Last night I spent about three hours getting it in position."

Superman was amazed by his friend's audacity. "But the numbers, the plane itself…"

Batman held up his hand. "It wasn't that hard. The plane had only been flown on test flights for years. And the design was pretty much a standard Leer jet. The specifics were on file and easy to duplicate. All I had to do was get the plane on the field. Then it was just a matter of changing the numbers. I used a radio activated paint I developed. Works on the same principal as chromatafores on a cuttlefish. Once I activated it the original numbers faded and a new set appeared."

Realization suddenly dawned on Superman and unlike Batman he lacked, (or preferred not to use,) the control not to show it. Batman continued.

"Once it lands, the Canadian police will move in and arrest him for grand theft. And then the plane and all its contents will be confiscated. It may take a while but eventually the money will run through the system and make its way back to that boy. And the grandparents."

He went on as the extent of his plan dawned on his companion. "Like I said, he has to lose everything. Without his money, the ones that got caught the other night will be a lot less inclined to hold their piece. And without his organization, there's no reason for Luthor to come to his aid. In effect he becomes a man without a country. Eventually, he may even petition the DA to extradite him to the states. I know he has a few secrets he can barter with, and more that a few of them are probably about Luthor."

Superman was stunned. The level of intricacy involved in this was mind boggling. But his next question was its equal.

"Why did you do all this? Why involve these people?"

Batman sighed. "It was the only way to keep him off balance. If he knew _we_ were coming after him, he might have gone to ground, or even to Luthor for help. Or he might have just taken off. But by making him think that it was just New York police force was after him, he had to take care of it himself. Otherwise there would be little chance of him starting his business elsewhere."

Superman stepped back. Once again he had underestimated the man. And once again Batman had found a way to make his respect for him grow. He was not only the world's greatest detective, but one of its premier strategists as well. There was only one thing remaining. "Why did you choose that group? To do what you wanted you could have used any precinct in New York. What made you chose a sex crimes unit?

Again came the smile. "When I finally came up with the plan, theirs was the first one I saw. And the guy Elliot had a good record. Good enough at least to make me look at the rest of his squad. When I did, I liked what I saw. The rest, as they say is history."

Shaking his head, Superman said almost glumly, "And to think, I started all this with a bad call checking out some of Luthor dealings with the guy. If I'd investigated further that girl might be alive now!"

Batman's mood suddenly changed back to the grim visage he used almost daily. "Stop that! You can't afford to second guess yourself! None of us can! When it's all said and done we're still…mortals! You may be less mortal than most but you still don't have all the answers. And everybody needs you to be that example you keep trying to be. If you aren't always right, it doesn't give you the right to be wrong! The fact that you wouldn't use what you learned, or let me shows you've got the right ideas. But that still doesn't mean that you can get to be wrong in the eyes of the public!"

Superman found himself feeling cowed by the outburst. And he smiled. Whatever he felt about Batman at times, he had to admit the man had a style and a presence that matched his own. And even in some ways even surpassed it. But still he reasoned, he had better watch himself from now on. A few repeat performances like this and he might begin to feel like he was working for this friend rather than being at least a colleague.

"I'm heading back to Metropolis. Do you need a lift or does Bruce Wayne have plans for the evening?"

With a final almost honest smile, Batman answered, "I have a ride on its way. You take care."

With a single nod, the Man of Steel shot upward and was out of sight in seconds. A few seconds later the Dark knight vanished into the shadows without a sound.

And at the precinct, Cragen sat at the desk in the main room and watched as the reporter on screen described the capture of the New York crime lord for grand theft airplane. While the others talked he thought back to the conversation he and Elliot had had the day before he announced his visit from the vigilante. And wondered how he felt about the man now.

After a moment he wondered if he, Elliot and all the others, were just pawns in this guy's game. The incident with the plane was too pat for his taste. It had to be part of a greater plan. And the idea that they had been used to implement it left him infuriated and impressed at the same time.

He wondered if any of the others had the same feelings. He of course excluded John, who was more than likely already well into a new theory of some conspiracy or the other. The others could be far less easy to sidetrack whenever they got pass the shock of what they had seen.

In the end though he realized it didn't matter. The world was not the same anymore. And from where he sat, this was a shot at improving it. There were too many loose ends and too many lawyers to pull them. The way things were, maybe they needed somebody like this Batman and Superman to balance the scales. From what he'd heard of this guy Luthor in Metropolis, who always seemed to be in the middle of everything that happened in that town, good or bad, if it wasn't for the guy in the red cape, he could be running things there now. He wasn't sure if that would qualify as good thing or not.

But what he did know was that having met the pair of them, sleep was either going to be a lot easier…or a lot harder to get. And work could get a lot more interesting.

And on the roof, Elliot Stabler watched the clouds rolling by. He listened to the wind and wondered what it was like to be that free. Maybe he was crazy. The mask, the cape, the whole persona, all of them made him wonder about the man's sanity. But whatever he was about he was good at it. Good enough to maybe actually do some good.

He looked over at the shadows, half expecting, half hoping to see the man materialize from the darkness. After a few seconds he chided himself for being silly. He was gone. Back to Gotham City and whatever he called home there. Whatever he did to Briscoe had worked, and now he was gone again. Just that fast.

He realized he had been used, but he approved of the final outcome enough that he found he really didn't mind.

As he stood and started down the stairs, the words of the Man of Steel came back to him. He had a marker on him. They all did. And who knew when that could come in handy? He smiled as he fingered the flashdrive in is pocket. A great souvenir. He opened the door and headed back downstairs, wondering if there would be more of this in his future. And stunning himself as he thought unbidden, "God, I hope so!"


End file.
